It Started With a Cup
by ChloeDCrystal
Summary: Hermione knows that in her heart, she is indeed, lonely. Even though she has two {sort of} amazing friends who are {most of the time} there for her, they sometimes seem distant. She longs for something more. Suddenly, she meets a rugged, young man, entering the dangerous Triwizard Tournament that she's read so much about. Could she develop feelings for Harry's competitor?
1. Chapter 1 - Enter Durmstrang

Hai hai minaaaa {everyone}~! It's Chloe D Crystal again~! I hope you won't bring me to hard on this one. It's a Viktor Krum {a wizard} X Hermione Granger {a witch} fanfiction this time. I really don't want anyone to be offended at this ship, as I know there are many Draco Malfoy {a wizard} X Hermione Granger ships and also Ron Weasley {a wizard} X Hermione Granger {a witch} ships. I personally like both the Draco and Viktor ship but I know a lot of Dramione fanfics already and I think there maybe should be more Vikmione ones~ Please don't judge the story **JUST** because it's Vikmione. If it's bad, then it's bad, but it won't be bad just because of this subject.

IN THE END~ ENJOYENJOYENJOOOY~ or at least try to…~? Ehehehe~

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - Enter Durmstrang**

I'm sitting on the house table, next to Harry and Ron. They're talking about Quidditch and Chess and all that stuff, but never say anything about what I like, or if I'm interested. Sometimes I don't really mind, heck sometimes it feels good that way. But a lot of the time, I'm bored to my wits. I poke at my morning honey porridge with little interest, when suddenly, professor Dumbledore made an announcement. Pardon? Ah tournament? I'll probably not be entering. If it's not obvious yet, me with my skinny body and bones, isn't very an athletic person. Well it turns out nobody in my year can participate anyway. It's for 17 years and older. I continue gazing at my cold breakfast, just hearing some of the words, though disjointed.

"Honor of hosting . . . exciting event . . . coming months, . . over a century . . . pleasure to inform . . . Triwizard Tournament . . . taking place at Hogwarts this year!"

There's a gasp and murmur in the school.

"You're JOKING"

I hear Fred exclaim. This must be some big competition.

Later that day I decide to go to the library. I know, how unexpected of me. I'm sorting through the non-fiction "T" section of the bookshelves, when I came across "Triwizard History and Short Stories". It's written by a former player. Maybe this'll be interesting. I mean, it's good to have a range of different reads now and then. I sit down at one of my tables.

It starts out with an intro to the writer, about how he had to go through a list of challenging and creative events. It seems so dangerous, but sort of thrilling. There's a lot of perspectives written in, and at the end there's a small section on other books he wrote about Triwizard Tournaments. I borrow all of them from the library and go back to my room.

I place the accumulation of books on my desk and and grab a quill and parchment paper. The pale, white feather starts moving back and forth, side to side. The black ink spreading on notepaper emitting a dark, strong smell, mixed in with the crispy, fresh parchment. This aroma fills the room, and I'm not only engulfed in my smell, but in my writing. It's an entry of my in that situation of being in the Triwizard Tournament. Me on my broom, flying through the clouds, and finishing first during the beginning round. It's an adventure on a flattened piece of wood. What more could you ask for, huh?

…

If you didn't know that was sarcasm

A Couple of Weeks Later

I walk out of my sleeping chambers and see that nobodies at the common room. That's really odd, since there's normally a boy sorting out his chocolate frog cards, or a few girls gossiping on the latest relationships. Sometimes, there's even a few people frantically studying for a test. But right now, it's almost empty apart from Hermione. It's like there was an epidemic and everyone was ushered out but they forgot my room. Maybe I'm a zombie of some sort now. I leave the common room to see the last of the students going down the corridors. I manage to hop on one of the stairs that are moving. As I pace down, I start to see small crowds gathered around windows. I go to the bottom floor and find a large mass of students, even some teachers {though I reckon they were supposed to keep the students back but got distracted}.

I manage to squeeze through the crowd, and there before my eyes, was a huge ship. There may have been mist but you could see the enormous hull of the boat. It's big and brown, and looks like a ghost ship because of a few tears in the masts. There are about 7, 8 masts and two large lamps at the front of the ship. Even with all of these points, there's still a warm glow coming from the windows. I've heard of this ship before. It's that dark wizarding school mentioned in that book about Triwizard Tournaments.

It's Durmstrang.


	2. Chapter 2 - First Touch

Hai Hai everyone~! Thanks for reading the first chapter, and remember you can post reviews, good or bad {though preferably constructive criticism} after your read~! As always, have fun while reading it {or at least try to}~!

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - First Touch**

During dinner, I'm still stunned from the appearance of Durmstrang's ship. To top it off, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic has also came. It's an all girl's school, and they are stunning. They're wearing grey-ish blue uniforms, with pointed bowler hats and coats of the same colour. They walk in unison down the middle of the great hall, and emit light blue butterflies, enchanting all watchers.

Then, Durmstrang comes in. They're all holding staffs, and when those staffs hit the floor, yellow sparks fly out. Though their gazes are quite intimidating, I catch the eyes of one of them, and for a moment, we just look at each other. After the moment passes, I feel kind of odd. It's not a bad feeling, in fact, Durmstrang doesn't seem that bad.

I'm thinking of today's dinner, pondering on what has happened. In a matter of days, new schools have flooded in for this international event, and I've watched some spectacular magic happen before me. These people are so intriguing. They've got an air around them, a sort of aura. Strength, power, yet beckoning to come closer. With so many questions about them in my mind, I go to bed, hoping to find the answers tomorrow.

Oh boggarts. I wake up late for school, and rush out the door with my hair in a frizz. Well, it's always curly but, my bed hair is worse. I don't even know if it's actually different if I try {and fail horribly} to comb it, but I carry on doing it on a regular basis.

I grab some of my textbooks before I leave the common room, and fly out, only to be greeted by a giant torso. I crash at amazing speeds and fall. Everything slows down, and I feel myself plummeting to the floor. Suddenly, I feel something behind my back, and it pulls me up. I am now face-to-face with who could possibly be the best quidditch player in the world.

I'm looking at the face, of Viktor Krum.

In contrast to my flustered features, Viktor Krum is unfazed from the knock. His hair is trimmed to a buzzcut, and he has a bit off a stubble on his chin. His eyes are dark and round and . . . make me feel whole. He opens his mouth, and his voice deep and thickened with his accent.

"Are you okay young miss? You must be more careful."

I realise that I'm being held strongly in his arms, and blush so deeply that I look, and feel, like a fire. I stumble onto my feet, and he lets go. For some reason, I stutter when speaking.

"I-I u-uh thank y-you u-uhm I-I need to uhh class uhhm get so-"

He smiles at me, a mix of warm sunlight and a mocking smirk. He bids me well, and walks past me. I have a buzzing feeling in my chest, and I can feel my heartbeat unusually strongly. I realise the time, and run to class feeling like I had just received a shot of adrenaline.

As I sit down, Harry and Ron do notice me this time. Harry gives me a questioning look, but decides to leave it at that. Ron, on the other hand, decides to take the offense. He starts ranting out on me.

"What's with you today Hermione? You're almost late, and you've missed our whole conversation on the Triwizard Tournament. It's so unlucky we can't enter, I can't believe it's only for-"

I sigh, loudly. Ron looks even more annoyed at me, and continues to chat about the Tournament with Harry. For a moment I thought that Ron would be worried about me, or . . . _something_. But no, he immediately brushes past it even though he brought it up. I just take out my books, and start with some titles and dates. Irritated looks and straight afterwards ignoring. Same old, same old.

During class, I find myself trailing into thought. Defense spells . . . strong arms . . . dementors . . . big eyes . . . boggarts . . . thick accent . . . I can feel the colour rushing in my cheeks again. I shake my head, as if to physically shake of my thoughts. When I look up, Professor Snape is giving a disgruntled stare straight at me. He rolls his eyes, and turns back to the board, as if I'm not worth his time. I huff a bit, but continue writing, even though most of those notes are just scribbled lines.

I take spoonfuls of broccoli and bangers and mash onto my plate, and pile it on as if it's a mountain. I balance the my newly borrowed book and start to eat, trying my damned best to forget what happened today.

Why forget though?

Ah voice inside my head speaks up, a small voice at the back of my thoughts. Almost like a little Dobby.

What's wrong with this. It isn't bad, is it? It isn't hurting anyone. You don't really have anyone to hurt right now, don't you~ It's true isn't it~?

Why am I so worked up on this? I shoo away that dwarf-like voice back into it's corner, and continue eating. Maybe it's because it's the first time I've felt like this, But that still doesn't excuse this kind of behavior! I need to study more, prepare for future exams. Not reading textbooks won't help, and by researching, I can get a head start. Plus, I've adapted fast to the life of a witch in Hogwarts. I've aced new spells, and stayed on top of the class continuously and with consistency. How should this be any different?

I've decided to keep this kind of mind set. But as soon as I look up, I see his face again. His calm, knowing, straight face. We catch eyes, and I can feel my heartbeat increase immensely once again. Looking back down doesn't help much, but I do it anyway. What in the bloody wizarding world is happening?! I'm going mad!


	3. Chapter 3 - Collapsing Chaos

*a light switches on, making the room, covered in papers, folders, unknown knick knacks and whatnot, seem less dark and possibly, less desolate. Even with all the junk around me, I am aware of a muffled clicking sound coming from the short steps I make.

After some searching, I see what I'm looking for. An aquamarine blue rectangle on the table, next to a Totoro puzzle, almost done. With the light shining on it, it looks like it's glowing. In a flash, I flip the lid open, and it reveals a dark screen, with my reflection visible.

I sigh, but find a nearby cable, and plug it in. A red dot flashes, and I hold on the power button for a few seconds

. . . . . .

I see my password screen appear, over a background of all the One Piece characters, and start typing.*

The summer war has endeeeeed~ WOOOOOOOOH~ it's school time soon, which most people wouldn't be happy about, but I kind of am~! 'Cause I get to see my friends, aaand . . .

I CAN TYPE MY FANFICTIOOOON~

Even though I said I might be able to have more time to type this summer, alas it didn't happen. So as a reward for you patience, I'm going on a releasing spree and am trying to devote most of my time to writing and publishing new chapters and hopefully, some one shots to make up for it. As always, write reviews, and enjoy the chapters~!

* * *

 **Chapter 3 - Collapsing Chaos**

That lunch felt like it was dragging for all of eternity, so I'm happy that it's finally over. I dash back into my room, and lock it with a quick flash of my wand. It's not like I'm in danger or don't trust the others, it's just that, I don't want to be disturbed any further. Why is it that he makes me uncomfortable? But a strangely . . . warm kind of uncomfortable.

I've got to focus. I pull my copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" and start scanning the text to take my mind of off . . . of off whatever this is.

"Dirical . . . Doxy . . . Dragon"

Dragon's huh? There seem to be many types. They're kind of like people. Such different skins, such different minds, such different backgrounds. There's so many, that you could make a book out of it. Everything is so different in this world of magic. I feel like I'm all by myself, the only one who doesn't seem to understand.

Ron was born into a wizarding family. He was educated from birth. Harry was born into a muggle family, a family like mine. Well, not like mine, but at least they didn't practice the magical arts. At least _he_ should understand, right? Then how come it's only me? Only me who is lost, and alone. Only me who is made fun off, because I lived with a muggle family. There's nothing wrong with my parents. Harry fit right in with everyone. The star of the movie, he _completely_ stole the show.

I sigh again. A whole day of sighing. I'm tired all over again. I plop into bed, exhausted from confusing events. Digging my head into pillow, I quickly dove into some light dreams. I feel the wind through my hair again as I play quidditch, and I sleep deeper. The sky looks so vast, and big and blue. Suddenly, I big, red, scaly dragon appears. He slowly flaps his broad wings, bobbing his elongated head back and forth. He has yellow pupils, with irises like black holes. He gives a smirk, and rises way over my head. I'm staring straight at his stomach, which is a lighter shade of red. I can hear it chuckling, though it's more like a deep roar. I can see a dark silhouette riding on it's spiked back. It's him.

I wake up, breathing heavily and sweating. Why is he there? Him of all people? The thought of him never leaving me head sends shivers down my spine. I sit up and turn on an oil lamp on my bedside table. Peering out the window, I see a chestnut coloured barn owl's silhouette against the glowing crescent moon. It's holding what seems to be a stained letter, possibly with tea, which is sealed by a scarlet logo of some sorts. The owl's wings flap slowly, and it docks on a nearby metal railing. A hand extends to pluck the letter out of it's mouth, and I lean closer to see who it is. The anonymous receiver quickly takes the later into her room {I can tell it's a her since it's one of the girls rooms on my right}, and I can't see who it is.

As the sun rises, I rub my eyes. I only managed to take a quick nap before waking once more, as I keep having nightmares about his cruel laugh. I slowly change into my school robes, and groggily prepare my books for the day. Uurgh potion class today. Ironically, that's the exact same thought I had _during_ potion class. My thoughts distracted, I don't raise my hand for half of the questions, which makes Profesor Snape raise an eyebrow, but not call out on it. I scoff in my head. He probably doesn't want to trouble himself with this "know-it-all". At the end of class, I practically drag myself out of the potion room. my textbooks feeling heavy. I find myself slow down, the other students passing by. Soon the hallway is almost empty. I try to hurry up but my legs start shaking.

"Ahaha, really now?"

I hear his deep voice echo inside my head . . .

And I collapse.

I hit the icy, hard floor. Everything looks blurry, but I can see some of the remaining wizards and witches race over, gathering a small crowd. I groan, trying to get up, but I seem to have had my strength sucked out by the memories. A teacher, Professor Mcgonagall probably, orders some of the other students to "stop gawking and get back to class", and apologizes to some of the our visitors. Then, I feel a familiar strong pull, and my head buries into someone's warm vest.

"Don't Vuvy, I've got this covered. Evevone get vack, vack to class. h'ok?"

Ah it's that man again. That, quidditch player, I think. I can't believe this happened again. I need to stop meeting him in such a contrived way. Well, at least it's not as bad as primary school.

"Oh no, no, no." I hear Professor Mcgonagall, clearly embarrassed. "You musn't Mr. Krum. You're one of our esteemed guests, you mustn't strain yourself. We at Hogwarts can definitely handle the situation."

A chuckle escapes from above my head, and it's strangely calming. Normally, I would try to deny it, but I feel so tired that I decide to just accept it.

"Oh no, Ms. Granger here and I haff been acquainted alveady. I couldn't possibly go past wiffout helping,"

I can imagine Proff. Mcgonagall groaning a little, but not enough for people to really hear, unless they pay attention or see it often. I laugh on the inside, knowing that she cares about me, but doesn't want to force the problem onto someone else who doesn't have anything to do with the situation.

"Oooh," She gives in. "Fine, but please, do not burden yourself on this. We do have the staff for this, and your education as a wizard and quidditch player is just as important. Tell Madam Pomfrey to take of her, she'll know what to do."

My body is lifted, and I hear the murmurs around me while the crowd dispurses.

"Urgh, not again . . .I don't want that . . . to happen again . . ."

"Don't worry,"

I hear his voice again. I must have been mumbling my thoughts under my breath.

"I'll help you. You'll be fine."

I'm held more tightly, and I feel at peace, and collapse in his arms.

* * *

Woooh~ It's been forever, so I hope you like this really long chapter~

Reviews, reviews, where are you? Ah since there are none to be found, why don't you write some~? Go ahead!


	4. Emails and Apologies

Hey there, lovely readers,

You see, due to classified and level 5 clearance reasons, I had to change my email addresses. After I had setup my new one I decided to completely obliterate the former, not realising that I did not yet save any of my progress from any of my ongoing F.F's.

In summary, my _extremely_ slow progress has been slowed down even more. So . . . Hang in there . . .?


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